‘You told me Olivia knew.’
He slammed his palm onto the island.
I didn’t move.
This time, even Eleanor flinched.
The gesture seemed to remind him that the camera was still recording.
His hand slowly lifted from the stone.
I watched the realization settle over him: every reaction now mattered.
He changed tactics.
His voice softened.
‘Olivia, listen to me.
We can fix this privately.’
‘We?’
‘I made mistakes.’
‘You forged my signature.’
‘I didn’t personally sign it.’
That answer changed the room again.
Eleanor turned toward him.
I stayed very still.
Until then, he had avoided discussing who physically created the false signature.
Now, in his rush to defend himself, he had admitted knowledge of it.
I asked one question.
‘Who did?’
He realized too late what he had said.
‘I didn’t mean—’
‘Who signed my name?’
He looked toward the door.
I could almost see him calculating whether leaving would help him.
Then my phone vibrated on the counter.
A message from my attorney appeared, but I did not open it where Liam could see the screen.
I simply turned the phone face down.
Eleanor’s voice dropped.
‘Liam, what did you do?’
He spun toward her.
‘Don’t act innocent.
You wanted the property protected.’
Her mouth opened.
‘I wanted an investment protected.
I did not tell you to put your wife’s name on anything.’
‘You knew we needed another guarantor.’
‘I thought she agreed.’
I watched them carefully.
This was why I had refused to confront either of them separately.
If I had accused Liam first, he could have coordinated a story with Eleanor.
If I had shown Eleanor the documents first, she might have warned him.
Together, under pressure, they were correcting each other’s lies in real time.
I turned another page.
There were emails I had recovered from printed records Liam had failed to destroy properly.
Most were logistical.
Insurance renewals.
HOA discussions.
Repair questions.
One message referred to my income as ‘the backup source’ if the property account became short.
Another said my year-end bonus should cover outstanding charges.
That phrase appeared weeks before Eleanor arrived at my penthouse demanding exactly twelve thousand dollars.
I pointed to the date.
‘This wasn’t an emergency you discovered this week.’
